As expected, the heat is sweltering, probably except for the last few days when the weather has cooperated with us. An advantage of global warming, perhaps? This weekend the winds have been blowing strongly, to the point of the curtains really getting blown away. The past three days, the sky has been gloomy above us...
...but why is it that the northern city folks have to be sooo lucky?
I accompanied by father two days ago; he was accompanying my grandfather to a clinic in Quezon City. He was having a cataract extraction, and in the end, my main role - in jest, at least - was to put on my grandfather's socks and shoes after he came out of the operation with a bandage on his right eye. Interestingly enough, I found myself crossing Araneta Avenue four times under the very hot sun, but on the way home, it was raining.
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4/30/2008
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4/25/2008
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I woke up thirty minutes after the alarm sounded. Staggered out of bed, and nothing interesting for breakfast; I'm still craving for French toast. I settled for garlic margarine on loaf bread, since that's better than the garlic bread my mother brought home yesterday - it merely smells like it.
"Hey, tambalan na!"
Out with the badminton equipment and the gate to the garage, as the radio starts sending out requests for another discussion on why being in a relationship is so fulfilling. Last sound effect waves out, and the radio is switched off, to be substituted for three hours of news programs. New things learned today - a nuclear reactor, a hoaxed phone call, a Hollywood actor in jail, a penguin in a wetsuit.
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"Hey, tambalan na!"
Out with the badminton equipment and the gate to the garage, as the radio starts sending out requests for another discussion on why being in a relationship is so fulfilling. Last sound effect waves out, and the radio is switched off, to be substituted for three hours of news programs. New things learned today - a nuclear reactor, a hoaxed phone call, a Hollywood actor in jail, a penguin in a wetsuit.
Read more »
4/24/2008
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And what if they tell you that somebody else deserves it more than you?
That, after tried so hard, for so many times, you just couldn't do it like they do? That you couldn't satisfy their expectations? That you are just not made for it?
It's a funny feeling, really. At one point, they tell you that you're just right for the role. They'll say that you could make it, that you'll blow everybody away, and that you'll come out of it perfectly fine. After all is said and done, you actually lost all support; fifteen minutes later you're tagged as crazy. You can't possibly do it, they say.
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That, after tried so hard, for so many times, you just couldn't do it like they do? That you couldn't satisfy their expectations? That you are just not made for it?
It's a funny feeling, really. At one point, they tell you that you're just right for the role. They'll say that you could make it, that you'll blow everybody away, and that you'll come out of it perfectly fine. After all is said and done, you actually lost all support; fifteen minutes later you're tagged as crazy. You can't possibly do it, they say.
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4/23/2008
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"...when all we need is some relief from these hard times."
The past three days have been very, very weird. An upheaval, perhaps, from old routines. Maybe a realization that things are going their way, and not yours. Things go well one time, and then shift gears the next; you might as well stop expecting.
I wonder what happened to the three people I met during the auditions? I may have not made it - the results are apparently out, and I haven't received a text message - but for the past three weeks I chose to just forget about it. I also forgot about those three whose names escape my memory, although I technically have a photo with them, when they asked for one with Tin, before they went out in search of a photo with Andi. It's funny that I can't possibly have a copy of that little memory, because of timidity in my part, or circumstance in theirs.
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The past three days have been very, very weird. An upheaval, perhaps, from old routines. Maybe a realization that things are going their way, and not yours. Things go well one time, and then shift gears the next; you might as well stop expecting.
I wonder what happened to the three people I met during the auditions? I may have not made it - the results are apparently out, and I haven't received a text message - but for the past three weeks I chose to just forget about it. I also forgot about those three whose names escape my memory, although I technically have a photo with them, when they asked for one with Tin, before they went out in search of a photo with Andi. It's funny that I can't possibly have a copy of that little memory, because of timidity in my part, or circumstance in theirs.
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4/20/2008
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I was doing some school bag spring cleaning last night when I chanced upon one of the papers I submitted for documentary film class. I didn't really read the comments when I got it last Wednesday - all I remember was plunking it in my bag after finding out that it got a 4.0. I was more concerned, at that time, about my film reports, which never found its way to me when Sir Doy gave them away a few weeks ago.
But I was surprised, to be honest. A 4.0! I never really got that grade for any of the papers I submitted to Sir Doy - not one in the five terms I've been a student of his. Then again, I had to take photos and climb up Andrew to get more course cards.
Last night I finally got the chance to read that paper. It's three pages of thoughts about Michael Moore, written within two hours, the night before I was to show an excerpt of The Big One and talk about everything I've said. My mind wasn't particularly functioning well the night I typed it in, which was why I was so surprised when I finally saw Sir Doy's comments.
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But I was surprised, to be honest. A 4.0! I never really got that grade for any of the papers I submitted to Sir Doy - not one in the five terms I've been a student of his. Then again, I had to take photos and climb up Andrew to get more course cards.
Last night I finally got the chance to read that paper. It's three pages of thoughts about Michael Moore, written within two hours, the night before I was to show an excerpt of The Big One and talk about everything I've said. My mind wasn't particularly functioning well the night I typed it in, which was why I was so surprised when I finally saw Sir Doy's comments.
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4/19/2008
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During the last weeks of the last term, I bumped into Chamy at the canteen. Although I've seen her many times since that term where we became classmates (and consequently got battered with pad paper and grades), it's only now that we had a little chit-chat, while we were waiting for lunch to arrive. Somewhere along the way, she mentioned that Ranice blogged about me somewhere, and she was surprised that we knew each other, and that we were close while she was still in DLSU. Surprised, but with another opportunity to blush, I wondered where it was.
I didn't really look for it, but last night, while Multiply-hopping out of boredom, I chanced upon that entry. It wasn't really anything potentially mind-blowing; in fact, it was mostly her posting what I first wrote about her. "He doesn't know this," she wrote, "but I read this every once in a while 'pag lungkot na lungkot na lungkot na ako, at 'pag feeling ko mag-isa na lang ako sa mundo."
It didn't really surprise me. We were chatting when I wrote that entry - actually a spur-of-the-moment thing - and I couldn't forget what she told me the moment she read the entry for the first time. "I'm super duper speechless," she typed in on the chat window. "Touched and... pa'no ba ako mag-re-react?"
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I didn't really look for it, but last night, while Multiply-hopping out of boredom, I chanced upon that entry. It wasn't really anything potentially mind-blowing; in fact, it was mostly her posting what I first wrote about her. "He doesn't know this," she wrote, "but I read this every once in a while 'pag lungkot na lungkot na lungkot na ako, at 'pag feeling ko mag-isa na lang ako sa mundo."
It didn't really surprise me. We were chatting when I wrote that entry - actually a spur-of-the-moment thing - and I couldn't forget what she told me the moment she read the entry for the first time. "I'm super duper speechless," she typed in on the chat window. "Touched and... pa'no ba ako mag-re-react?"
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4/18/2008
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Let's complain about summer vacation again, shall we? There's the sweltering heat. There's the lack of things to do. There's the inevitable tendency for life to sink into another set of mundane routines. Yes, I'd probably go on about how much we hate it when we have lots to do, and similarly hate it when we have nothing to do. I'd probably go on about life's most mysterious facets, probably influenced by idle time, which I have always complained about.
Then again, I could just talk to someone. Oh, but there goes the blog entry - with a simple concession, there's nothing to talk about, and nothing to think about, if only as an attempt to fall asleep despite having too much of it already. Earlier, I was chatting with Dexter - another one of those attempts, this time assisted, to figure out another one of the things I've written - and when he finally begged off for the day, he attempted to keep the conversation alive. Blame my sleepiness, or my lack of interest in Americal Idol (partly because a certain David Archuleta is still there), but I didn't let it grow any further.
Think about it. For the longest time we have been compelled to have something to talk about. No, I'm not complaining about it, but have you ever heard someone really, as in really, enjoy blabber about nothing and everything in between? Girls look for boys with substance. Boys look for smart girls - maybe that, and a nice pair of breasts to fondle when it happens. Some are forced to read up whenever something big is coming, maybe as an effort to pass off as someone informed, but maybe not too intellectual - a downfall of mine - and maybe impress someone. But random chatter never really gets nowhere. People look for coherence, and then some.
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Then again, I could just talk to someone. Oh, but there goes the blog entry - with a simple concession, there's nothing to talk about, and nothing to think about, if only as an attempt to fall asleep despite having too much of it already. Earlier, I was chatting with Dexter - another one of those attempts, this time assisted, to figure out another one of the things I've written - and when he finally begged off for the day, he attempted to keep the conversation alive. Blame my sleepiness, or my lack of interest in Americal Idol (partly because a certain David Archuleta is still there), but I didn't let it grow any further.
Think about it. For the longest time we have been compelled to have something to talk about. No, I'm not complaining about it, but have you ever heard someone really, as in really, enjoy blabber about nothing and everything in between? Girls look for boys with substance. Boys look for smart girls - maybe that, and a nice pair of breasts to fondle when it happens. Some are forced to read up whenever something big is coming, maybe as an effort to pass off as someone informed, but maybe not too intellectual - a downfall of mine - and maybe impress someone. But random chatter never really gets nowhere. People look for coherence, and then some.
Read more »
4/17/2008
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To all who took the same program as me for the past three years, ponder upon this. Can you ever imagine yourself taking up nursing instead?
Don't get me wrong here - I have nothing against nursing students, although some might know my ditty against incoming college students who substitute their dreams for a nursing course, and a chance to earn dollars abroad. But imagine us in school, reading up on biology rather than film theory, wearing all-white uniforms, and discussing about our hospital duties in the coming weeks. Maybe it's easier if you imagine us wearing those uniforms, maybe with a badge somewhere, with our names written on it. Don't change everything else - the smile, the sense of humor, the demeanor. Everything but the uniform.
Every time I go home, I always chance upon nursing students, some of which I personally know from elementary school. I never really asked about their experiences, probably because they always asked about me, wondering whether the newspapers I made ten years ago were still being "published" in college. But I always wondered whether they were happy with their choices, or whether that was merely a decision imposed upon them.
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Don't get me wrong here - I have nothing against nursing students, although some might know my ditty against incoming college students who substitute their dreams for a nursing course, and a chance to earn dollars abroad. But imagine us in school, reading up on biology rather than film theory, wearing all-white uniforms, and discussing about our hospital duties in the coming weeks. Maybe it's easier if you imagine us wearing those uniforms, maybe with a badge somewhere, with our names written on it. Don't change everything else - the smile, the sense of humor, the demeanor. Everything but the uniform.
Every time I go home, I always chance upon nursing students, some of which I personally know from elementary school. I never really asked about their experiences, probably because they always asked about me, wondering whether the newspapers I made ten years ago were still being "published" in college. But I always wondered whether they were happy with their choices, or whether that was merely a decision imposed upon them.
Read more »
4/15/2008
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Sometimes, vague explanations are all that one can tell another. He can hide the true reasons, but he'll try his best to tell her what he really means, even if it's hard.
But in that one case, he told her everything, even if he knows it's painful. What could be more painful than the truth? Regardless of whether it's hatched five minutes ago, or built through deliberate efforts, there's always something with it that will somehow hit a snag, whether it happens or not.
He knew it'll hurt, but he told her anyway.
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But in that one case, he told her everything, even if he knows it's painful. What could be more painful than the truth? Regardless of whether it's hatched five minutes ago, or built through deliberate efforts, there's always something with it that will somehow hit a snag, whether it happens or not.
He knew it'll hurt, but he told her anyway.
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4/12/2008
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The hardest part of thesis, the way it stands right now, isn't the actual defense. Come to think of it, the panel seemed nicer at this point than the panel we faced three times during the proposal readings last term. Before it seemed that everything we did was wrong; now they were suggesting what we could have done better. The only thing that was common between the two, probably, was Miss Sibayan looking for a saving grace to our main character.
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4/10/2008
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Jose fought, figuratively, for the last DHL bag that Sir Doy gave away. Everybody knows that, during the last meeting we had, he already got some magazines about sound editing, if I remember correctly. Then again, what was inside was something I really would've wanted to have - a copy of Time Out Singapore, which turned out to have a fairly interesting look.
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4/08/2008
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He blushed, realizing he's become as sappy as her.
"I wonder how many we are," he asked me. "Did that sound right?"
"I don't know," I answered. "But if it works for you, then it should."
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"I wonder how many we are," he asked me. "Did that sound right?"
"I don't know," I answered. "But if it works for you, then it should."
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4/03/2008
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Before I went on the verge of feeling terrible again, I read Maebel's text message, the one she sent this afternoon. "Hey Niko," she went. "Nasugat ako sa toe... it's bleeding... waaah! Hinila mo ako eh..."
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Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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Some photographs have been edited using post-production curves from Shalla Yu.
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